Teacher's pet

An apple a day keeps you at play

"I know for a fact you have better things to offer that are far more delicious than an apple." -Joe Jonas

I had to get out of that class. I had to get away if it was the last thing I did because Joe had me losing my mind. My breath was short and shallow. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand as I tried to slow my breathing by counting and slowly releasing. I managed to get my butt up off the floor in the hall, walked to a rest area and planted it on the grass.
It was blazing hot outside. The sun hung closely in the sky like a round, orange furnace with the door left open. I had to retreat under a black oak tree, the oldest and most comforting shade tree on the campus, one of my favorite places to study when I can manage to catch a spot. I leaned against the tree trunk, opened my bag and took out my books, stacking them each across my lap. I'd never failed to attend any one of my classes before but today, decidedly so, I was skipping Professor Jonas's.
Not only was I his assistant in the mornings, I was his student in the mid-afternoons. It was too much. Giving us some space, I thought, was the smartest decision. I couldn't allow myself to fall victim to my desire for a man I couldn't stand but could hardly deny. My mind replayed the events of the morning. It had all happened so quickly. No one had ever been that interested in me, not to the point where he was willing to risk losing his job! No one could moisten my panties like Joe did. I adjusted my hips at the thought of it. My sweetness released from in between my folds, reminding me of my response to his touch.
Before I knew it, I'd been sitting under the tree for nearly an hour. I studied some. I daydreamt a lot. I tried to ignore my saturated womanhood by crossing my legs and clenching tight, but it didn't seem to work. My arousal level refused to diminish as my thoughts kept turning back to him. I guess it's true what they say: that your largest sex organ has nothing to do with the body, as it's all in your mind. I stood up from my spot and brushed myself off. I couldn't focus the way I needed to, and my skin was starting to fry even under the shade of the tree As I was getting ready to leave, I caught a figure out the corner of my eye. I knew it had to be him. Joe Jonas. I knew by the length and the gait of his stride; the way he held himself was all confidence. I wasn't sure what I should do. Should I stay where I was and sit back down, maybe act like I hadn't seen him coming? Should I grab my bag and run in the opposite direction as he walked closer to me from the right? Or should I turn around and face him eye to eye, stand my ground like a woman and attempt to calm my nerves? I looked again inconspicuously. Joe was about fifteen feet away and closing in fast.
I grabbed my bag out of instinct. I averted my eyes from his general direction so I could walk away and claim that I hadn't seen him coming. Feign ignorance later on if he asked me about it and give him an "I don't know what you're talking about" kind of look.
"Ms. Lovato?" Joe shouted. I should've known that wouldn't fly. I turned around and gave him the fakest smile that I could muster.
"Hi!" I said, through a mouth of clenched teeth, when really what I was truly thinking was, Damn it!
Joe had unbuttoned his blue shirt to the middle of his chest in the heat, and sweat was rolling down his neck onto his t-shirt. Carnal thoughts of how he'd look if he stripped crossed my mind. A slow grin stretched across my face before I could gather control. Joe took a seat in the grass on the opposite side of the tree. I assumed it was to not appear too obvious he and I were talking to each other. I let out a breath, and he did the same. It was too late to escape and make a break for the hills, so I decided I should roll with the punches.
"What do you want?" I said in my most stern and serious voice, which came out more like a squeak, due in part to my nerves.
He said nothing. At first. There was silence between us for several minutes, and with every minute that passed, I grew more irritated. "So are you going to say anything or are you just sitting there to bother me?"
"Where were you?" he blurted.
"What do you mean, where was I?"
"You ditched my class, Ms. Lovato. I have a right to know where you were."
"You're looking at it, professor." I leaned my head back against the tree trunk. "Best place to study on campus."
"So you skipped my class just to lean against a tree?"
"I did. Getting back to nature and all, you know? You can lose sight of it being cooped up in classrooms all day."
He didn't answer, and I didn't indulge.
I heard the rustling of a paper bag and what sounded like Joe unfolding it, opening and slipping his hand in to retrieve something from it. It sparked my curiosity. I wanted to look around to the other side of the tree and see what Joe had going on. "Whatcha got over there?"
"My lunch," he responded. "I pack it every day. Usually, it's a sandwich or two and a small piece of fruit, but every once in a while I get fancy and pack spaghetti or rotisserie chicken. I have very selective tastes, if you can't tell."
"Well, what that really sounds like to me is you can't cook."
"I can." He paused. "Okay, admittedly I'm not very good at it, but I make do. How about you? Can you cook?"
"You're asking me that with a name like Lovato? For a guy who's supposed to be super smart, professor, your deductive reasoning skills sorta suck!"
"Well, I didn't want to assume anything. It seems like young ladies these days are much too independent or self-centered to bother themselves with learning how to cook. Happy to hear you're somewhat different than the others."
"Somewhat?"
"Yeah, jury's still out on that one."
"Well, when this jury of yours comes back from deliberation, and they tell you I'm definitely different than 'the others,' you make sure you take that statement back. Okay?"
"I most certainly will, Ms. Lovato."
"Good. So what's for lunch today?"
"I have a ham and Swiss sandwich, some almonds and an apple. Actually"—he rustled the bag with his hand—"looks like I've packed two apples. Would you like one?" He reached around the tree.
I saw his hand grasped around a plump red apple that looked about as perfect as they come. My stomach jumped at it and squeezed tight, with a hunger pang letting me know it was what it needed. "Aren't I supposed to offer those to you? You know, bring an apple to class, kiss up to the teacher, get better grades, etcetera."
Joe laughed. "No offense, Ms. Lovato, but I'm sure you have better, far more delicious things to offer than an apple. I've noticed."
"Ahem." A wide smile stretched across my face. My arm prickled, heavy with goose bumps. I was flattered, but we both knew there were limits to what we should or shouldn't say. "Okay, Professor Jonas. If you say so."
"Are you going to let my hand fall off? Even an apple gets heavy if you hold it long enough."
"Oh, I forgot." I reached around for the apple. It rolled from Joe's fingers into the palm of my hand. Being more grateful than I'd like, I said, "Thank you." I brought the shiny red apple to my mouth and let my lips brush across it before I took an enormous bite. My teeth sank in and my eyes rolled back. I couldn't help letting out an "Mmmm." The juice rolled down my face in fat little drops, over my lips and down the sides of my chin.
Joe had a smile in his voice. "It's good, isn't it?"
I nodded until I realized he couldn't see my gesture. My mouth was still full, so "Mmm-hmm" was all I could manage.
"Fuji apples are delicious... like your lips are, I bet."
Intense desire leapt within me, exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I had to get away and quickly before I said something I'd regret. "Okay, I think I better go." I brushed myself off once again, sprang to my feet and tried to leave.
"No, wait, don't go." Joe stood as well. He made his way around the width of the tree and placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently."
"I think it's best I leave, don't you? Besides, it's almost time for my next class. I'm sure you don't want make me be late."
"Demi, we both know your leaving has nothing to do with you being late for your next class."
"It's good to hear you call me by my first name, professor. I was beginning to think you didn't know what it was. Sounds good, coming out of your mouth like that. You should use it more often."
Was I flirting?
"Duly noted, Demi." He smiled. "Speaking of family, can I ask where you're from?" A stall tactic that didn't escape me one bit. "I don't detect an accent or anything, so I assume you're from around here. Born and raised in the Bay Area?"
I decided to play along. "No, not exactly. I'm from Fresno. It's the sixth-largest city in California and the largest complete bore I've ever known. Do you know where that is?"
"I've come across it. Hot as hell out there... dry and nasty heat. Makes today seem like a moist spring morning."
"Yup, that's Fresno for you. Which means you're from around here, too? You have to be to know about Fresno. So spill the beans, Mr. Mystery Man. I mean, since we're getting personal and all. It would make me feel better if I knew more about the person who had his hand down my pants."
Joe winced and studied my face and then continued to talk once he realized I was fine. "I grew up half my life in Menlo Ather—Park. It's the next city over from Palo Alto. I was actually born in New York and lived there before my family moved out this way when I was eleven. My parents are bicoastal still, but I tend to try and stay in California when I can. I like it. It's a little more down to earth here. More trees, grass and things like that, not too many people or high-rise buildings. I'm not the biggest fan of large cities."
"Yeah, neither am I. Give me a tree any day over concrete, steel and a skyscraper. So, if I may ask, do you normally eat your lunch on the grass or did you seek me out?"
"Maybe I was looking for you."
"Reason being?"
Joe took his time to answer, letting out an exasperated breath. "Maybe I wanted to apologize about earlier today... I'm an aggressive person by nature and"—he paused—"and when I see something or someone I like, I tend to go for it. Sometimes, consequences be damned. It's a personality flaw of mine. What can I say?" He looked around and took his hand off my shoulder when he realised that people could see us.
"Feeling watched?" I said, mustering up the courage to look him in the eyes. It only lasted briefly, but it was an effort. I had to look away before his mesmerizing gaze kept me captive. "Does it make you feel cornered or put on the spot when people can see you? I guess everyone is powerless to something."
"No... never powerless. Just cautious, I guess."
I grinned. "Yeah, I know the feeling. Anyway, professor, I better get going. Off to my next class, where people keep their hands to themselves." I winked and took another bite of my apple. I glanced backwards over my shoulder. "This apple's good. Thanks again." As I walked away, I hoped he wasn't staring at my ass...then, again...maybe I hoped he was.

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